That Ball and Chain
by Julia456
Summary: Post 'Villains'. Candra wants Gambit's head on a platter... so why is Rogue getting dragged into it?
1. 1

Disclaimer haiku:  
There is a house in  
NYC they call Marvel;  
And they own X-Men.

Note: For this fic I've drawn on the Rogue limited series, the first Gambit limited series (not that weirdo second one), and XM #60-61. Pay attention to the word "drawn on," as opposed to "blatantly stolen major plot points from," although I've done a teensy bit of that, too.

The title comes from The Animals' song "House of the Rising Sun," which I have loved for all these many years now, and which always makes me think of Gambit, because, well... if you've heard it, you know why. Anyway, here's the verse that's relevant for this fic: "Well, I got one foot on the platform/ The other foot on the train/ I'm goin' back to New Orleans/ To wear that ball and chain."

And lastly, a note about spelling. I know that Marvel considers her name to be "Bella Donna," but I refuse to use that form for a very good reason: I think it looks stupid. So I'm using the spelling "Belladonna," which also brings it in line with the scientific name for the rather deadly plant nightshade, which is, after all, what she was named after in the first place.

This is now firmly AU, but it's still a lot of fun.

Whew! Enough notes - let's do some fic, huh?

* * *

"That's the girl," a low voice said behind her, and Rogue suddenly found herself being grabbed by the shoulder and spun around, off of the city sidewalk and into an alleyway.

"Hey, get the-" she started, jerking away, but the sentence died when one of her attackers, a young woman with a green and purple costume, put her in a chokehold and pressed a blade to her throat.

"Hold _real_ still, honey," she said. There was something familiar about her voice, but Rogue couldn't place it. She tried not to swallow, acutely aware of the cold steel's edge, and sized up the opposition.

There were six of them - four women and two men, including the girl with the knife. Two of the girls and both of the guys were wearing red-and-yellow getups that looked distinctly old-fashioned. One of the girls had a red blindfold on; the other had silver-white hair. The other lady was wearing a black, skintight suit that covered her from neck to toe, as well as a lot of strappy, blood-red armor that looked more decorative than anything else. She was a knockout blonde by anyone's standards, and she was clearly in charge.

_Okay_, Rogue thought to herself, _no more going out by yourself at night. If it ain't lynch mobs, it's mutant thugs._ Because these folks were clearly paranormal, unlike the football player jerks who'd already tried to assault her on this little shopping trip. She didn't know why she even bothered to _try _to have a normal life anymore.

"Hello," the blonde said, hands on hips and smirk on her face. "Rogue, right?"

It was hard to have an attitude when there was a knife pricking at your jugular, but Rogue did her best and snapped, "Yeah. Who the heck are you?"

Blondie smirked and tossed her hair, revealing a pair of needle-sharp red earrings. "I'm Candra, darling, and I'm looking for a certain mutant thief. Tall, charming, red eyes, makes things explode... do you know where we can find him?"

"I have no idea who you're talkin' about," she said coolly. It was stupid, and made no sense, seeing as the mutant in question was one of Magneto's flunkies and the X-Men's enemies. But what the heck - being grabbed at knifepoint didn't really make her feel cooperative.

Candra looked over her shoulder at the girl with the blindfold. "Singer?"

"Yes," Singer said, not raising her head. Her voice faded in and out. "I see... talking..."

Rogue's heart sank a little. Telepaths sucked when the other side had them.

Candra turned back to Rogue. "So, yes, you do have an idea." She made a quick gesture, and the girl holding the knife to her throat gave Rogue a swift punch in her lower back. "I should warn you, Rogue, that Belladonna can do this sort of thing all night."

"Good fer her," Rogue managed to say, torn between the pain radiating from her kidneys and the biting sting of metal at her throat.

Candra flicked a nonexistent bit of dirt from one red gauntlet. "All right then, round two. Mutant thief?"

Belladonna prodded her back for emphasis.

"Ow! Jeez. Fine, I'll tell you." Rogue tried to give Belladonna a dirty glare, failed, and aimed it at Candra instead. "He's workin' for Magneto."

One of the men, a scrawny guy with long brown hair and a pirate's beard and mustache, coughed loudly.

"Thank you, Fifolet," Candra said without looking at him, sounding annoyed. The girl with white hair shook her head in disdain; Fifolet shrugged. "We know he's with Magneto, darling. That's not the question."

"Then what is?" Rogue demanded. She was losing her patience something fierce - and at that moment, the pressure at her throat eased. Not one to miss an opportunity, she promptly threw an elbow into Belladonna's face and added, "And get off me!"

Belladonna staggered back. Rogue turned to keep everyone in her field of vision and got into a fighting stance. Four on one? She could take them. And if she couldn't, then all that crap in the Danger Room was useless.

In a heartbeat, the two guys and the white-haired girl were also ready to fight. Yellow-green light flared around Fifolet's eyes and hands, and the other man produced a nasty-looking mace from nowhere. It started to glow magenta.

Candra still hadn't moved. In fact, she looked bored.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," she said. "Belle, get back over here. Questa, Fifolet, Gris-Gris, knock it off. Four against one is no fun at all, and we don't want to kill the girl."

Belladonna silently moved to Candra's side, knife vanishing as she went. She glowered at Rogue from the new position.

Rogue noted with some satisfaction that Belle was already sporting a large swollen bruise on her face, but didn't relax.

Candra tapped one finger against her chin. "Where was I? Oh, that's right. We want to know what our mutual acquaintance told you."

"What, yer Singer can't tell you?"

Everyone's attention switched to the telepath.

Singer shook her head slowly. "Mind... too many... haunted..."

"Tell us," Candra commanded, authority cracking like a whip.

"He said... he said he was just passin' by."

Candra raised her eyebrows. "And?"

The warning was clear - she'd better have something else to say - so Rogue said the first thing that sprang to mind: "And he called me _cherie_."

At that, Belladonna's glower turned downright malevolent. She looked like she was angry enough to spit, and Rogue wondered what exactly her deal was. Despite her obvious fighting skills, and her really bad haircut, she didn't look any older than Rogue herself.

But the others, excepting Singer, grinned, and Candra laughed. "Now, that _does_ sound like our thief."

"What's his name, anyway?"

"He hasn't introduced himself?" Candra said, clearly surprised. "Usually he's shouting his name to the heavens before he's even flipped a card." The surprise turned to amusement, and she looked at Belladonna. "Go on, tell her."

"You want his real name, or th' 'professional' one?" Belle asked with sarcasm fairly oozing.

Rogue suddenly realized why her voice sounded familiar - she had the same drawling accent that Magneto's boy did, whatever his name was. So did Singer, now that she thought of it. "Pick one."

Belle ran a hand through her short blonde hair. "Gambit."

" 'Gambit'?" Rogue repeated, wrinkling her nose up. "That's a stupid-"

Before the sentence had even left her mouth, Belladonna's knife sliced through the air and embedded itself in the wall behind Rogue.

It had missed her face by less than an inch.

Rogue knew she'd gone absolutely white - well, whiter than usual, anyway. Belladonna folded her arms across her chest and gave her a decidedly unfriendly smirk.

"I should have mentioned this earlier," Candra said into the frozen silence, "but Belle is rather... _fond_ of him."

"Oh yeah? Coulda fooled me." Rogue felt something brush her face and realized it was strands of her hair that the knife had severed. "So we done?"

"I don't know. Questa?"

The girl with white hair stepped up to Candra's other side, tilting her head in contemplation. Rogue took a step back, uncomfortable under the scrutiny, and realized she had nowhere to go. Without even seeming to move, Candra's five flunkies had cut off all of her escape routes.

Questa finally nodded. "I think so. Just wish she had better fashion sense." Her accent was a little thicker than the others'.

Candra waved dismissively. "Then get on with it."

Questa nodded, flexed her fingers, and closed her eyes. Her body rippled, like water with a stone tossed in, then reformed. Even without the signature glow Mystique always had, Rogue saw the power for what it was.

A shapeshifter.

When Questa opened her eyes again, she looked exactly like Rogue, right down to the newly-severed strands of hair.

Rogue stared. And then, in a moment of utter clarity, she knew she was in bigger trouble than she'd seen in a long, long time.

The guy with the mace - Gris-Gris - stepped forward and blew a palmful of red powder into her face.

It was stupid and she knew it, but Rogue sucked in a breath of the stuff. She started choking immediately.

"Pleasant dreams," she heard Candra say, distantly, and then a black door slammed shut on her mind.

* * *

When Rogue came back to the Institute, she dropped her single shopping bag in her room and told everyone she had to finish some homework.

"Wow, you're like, extra-motivated tonight," Kitty said, teasing, and Rogue just shrugged.

She couldn't find a pen that worked and had to go borrow one from Jean, who was doing homework in the kitchen with Scott. "Thanks," Rogue told her, twirling the pen in her fingers as she walked off, and Jean pressed a hand to her forehead, frowning.

"What?" Scott asked.

Jean chalked up the sudden sensation of another mind to Rogue's always-anomalous power and dismissed the whole thing. "Nothing."

And that was the last anyone saw of Rogue that night.

Or the next morning.

"Rogue?" Kitty called, knocking on her door impatiently. "Come on! We're gonna be late!"

Scott had never been good at waiting for the morning carpool, and ever since the Institute had blown up, he'd gotten even worse. They had about half a minute before he left without them.

"Rogue! Are you even _here_? And you better not have gone on some stupid joyride!"

There was no answer, just like there hadn't been for the last five minutes, so Kitty gave up and decided to phase right through the door. She kept her eyes shut just in case - because there were some things she really didn't want to see - and waited for Rogue to yell at her. Nothing happened.

Kitty opened her eyes and stared, confused and a little scared, at the completely empty room. Oh, sure, a lot of her stuff was still there, like the guitar, and her school gear, but the uniform was gone from her closet and so were all of her clothes.

In slow motion, Kitty walked further into the small room. The bed was neatly made - a first for Rogue, who was a total slob when it came to that kind of thing. At first, that caught Kitty's attention more than the single object lying on top of the covers.

She picked up the disc, read the label, and swallowed, hard.

There was only one thing to do.

"PROFESSOR -!"

* * *

Rogue came to slowly. The place where she found herself was not the streets of Bayville. It didn't even look like someplace in America.

She was slumped in an overstuffed armchair, hands and feet bound with good old-fashioned duct tape, and as she struggled into a sitting position, she took in the rest of the room. It was big, ornate, and full of paintings and sculptures and all sorts of frilly knickknacks. It put her in mind of French palaces and art museums.

Twisting her head, she could see a big fireplace at one end of the room; it was cold, but stacked full of firewood. Looking the other way, she saw Singer nestled in another chair nearby, Gris-Gris standing behind her.

Ruby light flickered around Singer's head in a ghostly halo. Rogue didn't want to know what the telepath was doing.

"She's awake, Candra," Gris-Gris called out, without ever appearing to glance in Rogue's direction.

"Delightful," Candra's voice drifted back. A few moments later, the woman herself appeared and stationed herself in front of Rogue. She was still wearing red, but now it was a gauzy thing with even more pointless armor and a smooth metal tiara. The same needle-sharp earrings dangled from her ears, and now that she wasn't wearing gloves, Rogue could see that she had long, sharp red fingernails as well. "Have a good sleep, darling?"

Rogue suddenly felt like crying. "Why are you doin' this?" she asked, fighting back the urge to tears. It came out sounding kinda pathetic anyway.

A devil's grin snaked across Candra's face. "One word: access. You have it, I need it."

"Access to what?"

Candra gestured imperiously and Gris-Gris brought her a chair, which she settled into with flawless grace. "Why, Magneto, of course."

* * *

High school was put on hold for the indefinite future, and all of the X-Men gathered together to see what Kitty had found. A quick telepathic search by both Professor Xavier and Jean revealed that Rogue was out of range, which basically meant that she could be anywhere in the world, seeing as how Cerebro was still down. Wolverine was on one of his road trips; more bad news, since they couldn't use him to track Rogue either.

After a tense twenty minutes, it was reluctantly agreed by all parties that the disc was their only lead.

"You found this on her bed?" Professor Xavier asked Kitty, holding the disc up to the light.

Kitty nodded. She looked miserable, as did everyone else. They had all seen the label on the disc  
- the single scrawled word written with what Jean identified as her pen - and if the idea of what  
could be behind the message "Goodbye" wasn't chilling enough, then Rogue's absence certainly  
was.

Xavier played the disc, firmly suppressing the fear that they were going to see a suicide note.

Rogue's face appeared on the computer screen, looking paler than usual, but calm. "Yeah, so, I guess if y'all are seeing this, you've figured out I'm gone.

"First off, don't worry. I'm still alive. I just ain't... around."

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"I guess... There's no good way to explain this. I was out last night, right, and a bunch of football players started in on the whole 'mutant freak' thing, and I dunno, I just thought, 'Why am I doin' this?' I'm gonna be an outcast for the rest of my life. Why waste it protecting a world that hates and fears me? If I'm gonna have this power, I might as well use it to make sure we get a fair shake."

"Oh, no," someone said. Xavier agreed.

It was fairly clear to everyone where this was heading.

"So I'm gone. I guess I'll see you guys around, though it won't be as friends. Bye."

The picture blinked out.

* * *

"Magneto? I don't have access to Magneto!"

"Of course you do," Candra replied, totally unperturbed. "You worked for him once, in a roundabout fashion."

"But- I quit," Rogue said, incredulous. "I changed sides."

"Mm." Candra looked delighted with herself. "And now you've changed sides again."

Rogue felt something cold and chill slide around her belly. Not quite fear, not quite disbelief, not quite despair, but an emotion that was all of those things and more. "What?" she managed to get out. It was barely more than a whisper.

Candra snapped her fingers. "Singer. Show-and-tell."

Singer, moving slowly as she always seemed to do, reached up and tugged her blindfold down, then opened her eyes. The room was instantly flooded with red light - not the blinding, focused brilliance of Cyclops' blasts, but a gentler hue that washed over everything and stained it crimson.

This is how Scott sees the world, Rogue thought absently, too worried over her future to be fascinated with the minor revelation.

"Where's Questa?" Candra demanded.

Singer lifted a hand listlessly, then let it fall back into her lap, staring ahead blindly. "There."

The spot she'd pointed at gradually brightened into a glowing sphere, and then resolved into a figure - Questa, in Rogue's body, standing. Another figure took shape nearby, and then another, and another, until an entire tableau was laid out in mid-air, like an all-red hologram.

Magneto, that metal guy, the firestarter, and Gambit. Questa was in the middle of the lion's den.

It was telepathic - Rogue knew it had to be - but she had no words to describe the feat that Singer was performing.

"Singer has extraordinary eyesight, doesn't she?" Candra said, watching Rogue's reaction with a smirk. "Let's have some audio with this visual."

Singer lifted her hand again. Red flickered around it.

"- welcome you into the Acolytes," Magneto's voice said, warbling a little, "if you are being honest in your assertions."

"Of course I am," Questa snapped, pushing at her hair. "I contacted _you_, didn't I?"

"Could be a trick," the firestarter said. "I say we toss her out."

"No. The X-Men are too honorable for such a trick, Pyro," the metal guy said; Rogue was surprised to hear that he had a heavy Russian accent. "I believe she has come of her own free will."

Magneto took a step toward Questa. "Colossus is correct, Xavier is honorable - but these are desperate times for all of us. Explain again why you have come here."

Questa crossed her arms over her chest. " 'Cause I don't wanna get pushed around and treated like a freak for the rest of my life. Just like the first sixteen times I told you. Look, if y'all don't want me around, I'll go. I'm sure there's other mutant groups who'd be glad to have me."

Gambit hadn't said a single word or moved an inch.

"I do _not_ sound like that," Rogue told Candra, who raised an eyebrow.

"Questa has studied you for a long time, girl," Belladonna's voice said in her ear, making Rogue jump. The other girl was leaning over the back of the armchair in an unfriendly, overly intrusive manner. "She knows you better than you know yo'self."

"Glad someone does," Rogue retorted.

Belle cuffed the side of Rogue's head. It hurt, but Wolverine hit harder just in good intentions, and she told Belladonna that while she was trying to ignore the ringing in her ears.

"Be quiet!" Candra said sharply, making a shooing motion without looking at them. "I'm missing the good part."

The good part turned out to be Magneto's acceptance of Questa into his Acolytes. Rogue wanted to turn away from the sight of her doppelganger exchanging handshakes with the master of magnetism, but couldn't. It was like watching the proverbial train wreck - the life that could have been, the path she could have walked down. She felt profoundly grateful to the X-Men, and Scott in particular, for not giving up on her. She held out hope that they wouldn't give up on her now.

She was also building a deep, simmering hatred for Candra and all of Candra's flunkies.

When she got out of this duct tape - not if, when - she was gonna make them all sorry. Especially Belladonna.


	2. 2

Note: The "fruit loops" line is paraphrased from a comment made by Iceman to Legion in XM #41 - one of the very first issues I ever bought. Yes, nothing like jumping on in the middle of a crossover event... (sigh).

And in all the excitement, I forgot to note that you pronounce "Gris-Gris" as "gree-gree." I don't know if that sounds more or less silly than pronouncing it the way it's spelled.

* * *

The Acolytes weren't so sure about having a girl around. They were doubly unsure about having a former X-Man around, even if she had been a former member of the Brotherhood first.

But Questa was running the clock and had no time to ease herself into the tightly-knit circle.

Candra's orders had been very clear: if Questa couldn't get to Gambit within a few hours, she had to bail out. Singer couldn't hold up the telepathic end of the mission any longer than that.

Questa never failed. She'd been studying Rogue since the moment Candra had become aware of the X-Man's existence. She also knew Gambit - a lot better than Belladonna thought she did - and she felt confident that she could make the deadline with time to spare.

"You gonna talk to me or should I just ignore you, too?" she asked him, leaning against the doorframe of the briefing room, where Gambit had remained during her introductory tour of the place.

"You really serious about joinin' the Acolytes?" he fired back, unruffled. He was playing with a deck of cards. Questa found herself suppressing an exasperated sigh; could he be any more of a caricature?

"I wouldn't be here otherwise, would I."

"Guess not." He waved his hand and the deck of cards vanished, like a magician's trick, then flashed her an easy smile. "It will be nice to have some better-lookin' company."

This time, Questa was ready and moved right past the urge to roll her eyes and into a smile of her own. Rogue was no experienced player at this kind of game, so she made sure that the smile was slightly hesitant, slightly uncertain, underneath the brashness. "Could say the same. Do you really think Magneto's gonna win? I mean, without destroying the X-Men."

Gambit tilted his head. "Not willin' to see them killed? Maybe you shouldn't be here after all."

"Hey, they were my friends," Questa shot back, straightening and letting a little bit of Rogue's temper flare. "Maybe we didn't always get along, especially me and- some of the others, but you know, that's gotta count for somethin'... right?"

Gambit shrugged and said, "Sometimes. Doesn't always work both ways, though."

And he ought to know, given his history; she found a delicious irony in the current situation. Here she was, with Candra and Belladonna behind her, and he didn't even suspect. Questa moved further into the room, dropping down to sit in one of the empty chairs. "That's what I'm afraid of, I guess. Bein' on the battlefield and pullin' my punches 'cause they used to be my friends, and them treatin' me just like anyone else."

"It happens." He moved closer to her. Questa held her breath and waited for the perfect moment. Had to be perfect. Discreetly, invisible even to his thief's eyes, she slipped her hand into the hidden pocket of Rogue's uniform. And waited.

* * *

Singer's blindfold was back on, and Candra was on the phone.

"-give me that, you worthless piece of garbage," she was snarling at the moment, balling out some hapless soul on the other end of the line. "I arranged that deal personally! I know _exactly_ what the contract says."

Belladonna was conferring with Gris-Gris in the far corner about something.

No one was paying full attention to Rogue. And that was just fine with her, because she was trying to escape.

The armchair's legs had gold encrusted all over them; somewhere in between Questa's acceptance of Acolyte status and the start of Candra's phone call, Rogue had noticed that the metal on one leg stuck out a little. It wasn't a particularly sharp fragment, but it was the only thing she had, so she'd started carefully rubbing her taped ankles against it.

"If the general wants to renegotiate, tell him-" Candra broke off, visibly incensed as whoever it was talked fast. "WHAT?"

Rogue felt the tape loosen, just as little. She resisted the urge to struggle free; no point giving it away.

With quick, vicious gestures, Candra snapped, "Fine. I'll deal with this _myself_," and turned off the phone. "Those idiots pick the worst times."

"Somethin' we can help with?" Belladonna asked.

"Only marginally. This happens to be a legitimate business deal." Candra gestured. "Belle, take our guest into the library while the negotiator is here. Gris-Gris, keep watch over Singer."

"With pleasure, Benefactress," Belladonna said, bowing at the waist in a stiffly formal and old-fashioned manner. Gris-Gris also bowed and took up a position next to Singer's motionless form.

Belle grabbed Rogue by her bound wrists and dragged her out of the chair none too gently. "Get up, girl."

Rogue managed to climb to her feet, balancing precariously, only to be met with Candra's predatory smile from close range.

"I hate it when the pawns grow spines," Candra mused, running a fingernail along Rogue's jaw; Rogue twitched away and was rewarded with a rough shove from Belle. Candra's smile narrowed. "Try and remember that, darling."

"Whatever," Rogue said, with as much contempt as she could muster - which was rather a lot, given her current mood.

Candra waved them away, turning and heading for the other end of the room herself. "Go."

Belle shoved her again, this time forward, and Rogue barely avoided falling flat on her face. Belle half-dragged her out of the room and a cavernous hallway almost as big and just as ornately decorated.

"So what's your deal?" Rogue asked her as they passed by one humongous painting after another. "Goin' after that supervillain-lackey discount?"

"My family works for Candra. But I'd do this for free," the other girl answered. Belle pushed her through an open doorway, hard, and this time Rogue did fall to the floor. Her head smacked into the hardwood floor, covered only by what looked like a really nice Persian rug, and she saw stars for a minute.

Struggling to pick herself back up, Rogue lifted her head in time to see Belle lock the door and toss the key over her shoulder. The blonde cracked her knuckles. "It's just you an' me now, _'cherie'_."

* * *

A fog of shock and despair had settled over the grounds of the Xavier Institute. Literally.

Storm was taking Rogue's abrupt betrayal just as hard as any of them - for betrayal it was - and the weather reflected her mood more than it usually did. A dark and sickening thing to experience, betrayal, and there were already some disturbing hints of anger and even hatred towards their former teammate. No one could quite accept her action, although more than a few of them understood the reasons behind it.

The X-Men had gone to class, eventually, leaving just the adults and the younger students behind. They ought to have been working on the reconstruction, but instead sat around the basement levels and moped. Professor X had retreated to the empty and half-finished Cerebro room to consider possible avenues for solutions.

There really weren't any.

* * *

Questa sighed and lifted a shoulder. "I guess I shouldn't care so much. What do you think?"

"It's your call, not mine," Gambit said, apparently indifferent. But he was close enough for Questa's purposes.

All of the monitors had been left on. She checked them, hoping furiously that none of the Acolytes - or worse, Magneto himself - were nearby. They weren't.

The clock was ticking. The opportunity was there. Questa made her move.

"True." She gave him a smile and closed her fingers around the tiny syringe, bringing it up and emptying its contents into his arm in one smooth motion. "But not in the way you think."

He was moving almost before she'd finished, jerking away with those hyper-fast reflexes of his, but the chemicals supplied by Candra worked faster, and he stumbled, collapsing against the metal wall. "What -?" he got out, in Cajun-tinted French.

Questa didn't drop her disguise - not here in the heart of Magneto's stronghold - but she did allow herself to engage in a very un-Rogue-like expression of smug triumph. "Oh, I think you know what, and why. There's someone got a score to settle with you."

Gambit's eyes widened, then closed. She watched the understanding dawn even as he was lost.

* * *

Rogue slammed into a bookshelf, sending books and paper raining down around her. One heavy volume clipped her shoulder and her whole arm went numb.

"Candra wants you in one piece," Belladonna said, crossing the floor. "Don' ask me why. She got some scheme to use you later or somethin'. Whatever. Bad news for you, 'cause you gonna be her guest for a while. Good news for you too, 'cause that means I can't rip your lungs out like I wanna."

"I'll thank her."

Belle grinned savagely and kicked her in the face, a swift, hard blow that sent Rogue to the floor again. She tasted blood and felt the side of her face bruising already.

"Trust me, girl, when I'm done, you'll wish Candra had ordered you dead." To prove her point, Belle kicked her in the stomach, and then kicked her a few more times.

Rogue took the punishment, working desperately to break the weakened tape on her ankles. Wolverine had told them once that it didn't matter if you had your hands free; you couldn't run on your hands. If you could run, you could worry about your hands later, but someone with their feet tied up couldn't do much of anything.

"You, wit' your little attitude," Belle was saying, punctuating every other word with a vicious kick. Her accent was getting thicker by the moment. "Think you can waltz in an' take him. I make you regret the day you ever _saw_ him!"

"You kiddin'? I regret it already," Rogue spat, and Belle moved to kick her again. But this time, Rogue wrenched one leg free of the duct tape and countered with a badly-aimed kick of her own. Belle wasn't expecting it, though, and got knocked backwards a few steps. Not much of an opening, but Rogue took full advantage of it.

She got her hands in front of her and pushed off of the floor, on her feet at last and more than ready to fight. "Just you an' me an' a lot more even odds. Let's see how tough you are now."

Belle smiled and spread her hands. Yellow energy crackled into existence around her fingers. "Even odds? No fun there, I think."

_Had to open your big mouth, didn't you_, Rogue thought, kicking herself, as the fight began in earnest.

* * *

There was a delay of exactly two minutes as Singer relayed the information to Fifolet and Fifolet breached the perimeter.

Questa spent the time barring the door and watching the security monitors with ill-disguised anxiety. Any moment now, Magneto or one of the Acolytes could discover what was going on, and then they'd all be in big trouble.

Gambit had joined the group for a reason, and it wasn't because he agreed with the politics.

Finally, a familiar green light flared on the floor as Fifolet phased through it. He grabbed the unconscious thief, making the green spread to Gambit as well, then paused. "You comin' too?"

Questa shook her head. "I'll find my own way out."

"Suit yo'self," Fifolet said. "But get back fast. Candra's mad about somethin'."

And when Candra was mad, they both knew, it was best to cause as little fuss as possible.

* * *

The library's nice Persian carpet was gonna need a lot of dry-cleaning, and several shelves of books were scorched and splintered.

"What is going on in here?!" Candra's voice rang out. The fury was enough to make both Rogue and Belladonna freeze in mid-motion. That was fortunate for Rogue, because Belle had her cornered and was about to blast the tar out of her with a massive double-fisted shot of raw energy.

Belladonna lowered her hands, hastily dissipating the energy. "Nothin'."

" 'Nothing' my foot. I told you to keep her out of my hair for ten minutes, not start a firefight!" Candra flicked her fingers and Belle was suddenly dragged away from the corner - telekinesis if Rogue ever saw it. "Honestly, Belle. You're supposed to be a professional. Start acting like it!"

Belle, still caught in Candra's TK, ducked her head. "Sorry, Benefactress."

"I very much doubt it," Candra snapped. She gestured again and this time Rogue felt herself being pulled by telekinesis. "And with the imminent arrival of our second guest, I'm not inclined to take chances with either of you. It's time to power down, girls."

Gris-Gris, standing in the doorway behind Candra, looked alarmed. Even Singer, hovering out in the hallway with her head bowed, seemed to take note of the announcement.

"Candra, no," Belle said immediately, wide-eyed. "I'm not goin' to do anythin' to him. Or her."

"Of course you aren't. You'll forgive me for making sure." A pink glow blossomed around Candra's eyes and hands; she put one hand near Rogue's head and the other near Belle's. "It's much harder to take away powers than to give them, but let's see what I can do."

Rogue met this new development with open astonishment. "Take away...?"

"I giveth, and I taketh away." Candra favored Rogue with one of her more malicious smiles. "Did you think Belladonna and friends were born mutants? Hardly. Now be quiet. This takes some concentration."

There was a moment where nothing happened, and then a searing lance of pain shot down Rogue's spine and through every nerve. The pain faded almost immediately into a sort of numb tingling - like when her foot went to sleep and then the blood flow was restored, only over her whole body.

Other than that, she didn't feel any different, but Candra looked satisfied. "There we go. That should make everyone's lives easier for the next few hours. Gris-Gris, you're in charge of Rogue now. Belle, take Singer and go to the solarium. She needs to save her energy."

The first thing Gris-Gris did was put new tape around her ankles.

* * *

Faced with the usual hassles of being mutant teens in a world that hated and feared them, plus the worry over what Rogue was doing, plus the prospect of getting six tardy slips from Principal Kelly, who really hated them, the X-Men were not in the best of moods when they arrived at Bayville High School.

The Brotherhood's presence in the parking lot did not do anything to make them feel better.

"Hey," Pietro greeted them before they'd barely gotten out of the car, a smirk firmly set on his face. The other Brotherhood members formed a smug phalanx behind him. "Heard you lost someone."

Evan scowled. "How'd you like to lose something?"

"Ooo, touchy," Pietro said, backing up but not losing his grin. "Word is your ex-X-friend is having a great time with the Acolytes."

"Shove it, Maximoff," Scott told him, not so much pushing past the group as forcing them to give way. The other X-Men followed in their leader's wake.

Pietro darted around to stand in their path once again. "Aww, what'sthematter? Miss her that much already?"

"Get a life," Kitty said with her head held high, dismissing all of them, and with that, the X-Men went off to school, doing their best to ignore the sickening truth that one of them had turned.

* * *

They were back in the room with the armchairs and the fireplace. One of the windows was broken - smashed through, in fact, with a large, jagged hole in the center. A steady breeze blew in, ruffling the vast drapes, and with the wind came the incongruously cheerful sounds of birds chirping.

Rogue, unceremoniously dumped on the floor near an armchair, suspected the negotiator's meeting with Candra hadn't gone very well.

She also suspected that they were somewhere in the country. Otherwise, the birdsongs would've been accompanied by traffic noises and people's voices. Bayville wasn't a major city, but it wasn't in the country, either. She took advantage of the fresh air to see if she could smell anything like the ocean, feeling not a little ridiculous as she did (it wasn't like she was Wolverine or someone), but couldn't pick up anything more than the scent of some flower.

And then discovery time was over, because Fifolet and Questa entered, dragging Gambit between them, and Rogue was torn between gloating over the jerk's predicament and fearing for her life now that Candra had him. But then, Belle had said that Candra wanted her alive for later plans - the only problem with feeling reassured was that both Candra and Belle weren't exactly of sterling character.

"Put him over there," Candra ordered, and the two flunkies obediently hauled Gambit over to the chair closest to the still-cold fireplace and dropped him there.

From her position on the floor, Rogue had a good view of Gambit's interrogation.

"Wake up," Candra said, slapping him across the face.

Gambit opened one eye, apparently unsurprised to see where he was and in what company. "Candra. Still got the same charming manners, huh."

Candra was obviously in no mood to exchange pleasantries. She made a fist and Gambit was yanked upwards by an invisible hand, then slammed into the wall. "Where is it?"

Held a good four feet off the floor by an angry powerhouse, Gambit nonetheless managed to look calm. "Where's what?"

Candra must have pressed her telekinesis harder, because Gambit made a choking, strangling noise. "My _heart_. You took it. I want it _back_."

Gambit shook his head. "Never heard of it."

"The ruby you stole from my possession. WHERE IS IT?"

Gambit grinned - an astonishing expression, under the circumstances, and one that became even more inexplicable when he said, "Oh, that. I sold it."

Candra's fingers curved into talons, and an unseen force began tugging at the room's contents. Rogue recognized the hallmarks of a telekinetic rage - Jean did have a temper, however much she tried to pretend otherwise - and hunkered down further.

A vase went crashing into the wall, inches from Gambit's face, but everything else pretty much stayed put.

"You miserable, insignificant NOTHING!" Candra shouted at him, hair whipping around her head. "How DARE you sell - SELL - that gem! I should tear you APART!"

Gambit was turning a little blue and grabbing futilely at his throat.

Candra was too busy exacting revenge to notice Belladonna appear in the doorway and move towards her with a knife drawn, but she did notice when Gris-Gris fired up his mace and Fifolet's energy signature flared to life.

"What is _this_?" she hissed at them, openly scornful.

Belle held her ground, ready to go for Candra's jugular. "You kill him, Candra, I don't care who you are. Neither do they."

"_Children!_" Candra lashed out at them with one hand, and the three were flung backwards several feet, winding up on the floor. "Challenge me again and we'll see how well you three can fly." But she did let up on Gambit.

"Thanks, Belle," he said, voice decidedly strained. He didn't sound very happy anyway. "Almost makes up for you puttin' that knife in Lapin's shoulder."

"He had it comin'," Belladonna said, climbing to her feet with effortless grace.

"Family squabbles aside," Candra said, with a cross look at both of them. "I'd like to get back to the matter at hand." She refocused on Gambit. "The buyer's name."

"Anonymous."

"The date of sale."

"I forget."

Candra dropped him to the floor - literally: she let go of him and he fell, landing with a graceless thump. "Make sure he's not going anywhere," she told Gris-Gris, who produced a pair of shackles.

While Gris-Gris was cuffing Gambit, Candra walked over to Rogue and looked down at her, tapping the center of her chest with the toe of one red stiletto-heeled boot. "You know, if given the proper incentive, I can make it permanent."

Rogue forced herself to not feel the sudden, painful yearning in her heart. Candra was a liar and a killer, and she had no proof her powers were even gone temporarily. "Oh yeah? Watch me not care."

Candra smirked. "Suit yourself."

She and her flunkies moved to exit the room. Candra turned around with her hand on the doorknob. "Oh, and Gambit, dear?"

Gambit coughed and said, "Yeah?"

"You have five minutes to remember everything," Candra said, so sweetly that it was clear she was going to kill him. "After that... I'm turning you over to your girlfriend."

As the door closed, Belladonna smiled.

* * *

"Hey, where's Gambit?"

Colossus looked up from the sketchbook and shrugged. "I do not know."

Pyro ambled further into the room. "He's not anywhere here. That Rogue girl is gone too."

"Do you think they left somewhere together?" Colossus asked, putting down his pencil. Once Pyro started talking, there was no point in trying to ignore him or to do anything else.

"Maybe. Maybe she converted him and they're running to Xavier's."

Colossus considered it. "Maybe. It would not be a stretch."

"Yeah, he always did think with... his..." Pyro trailed off, and a moment later Colossus saw the reason why as Magneto swept past in the hallway. They waited for a moment until the master of magnetism had safely disappeared, and then Pyro murmured, "Think he knows?"

It was a foolish question with an obvious answer; if Magneto knew any of his Acolytes were missing, he would be doing a lot more than stalking the halls. "Not yet."

Pyro jerked his head in the direction of the door. "Should we tell him?"

"What is there to tell him? Only suspicions." Colossus picked up his pencil again. Drawing was perhaps an odd hobby for someone like himself, but he found it a good outlet for all those things the world would not permit him to say or do. "No. If there is another reason, we will be made sorry for it later."

"Oh yeah." Pyro abandoned the issue as quickly as he'd started it, turning and leaving the room without another word.

Colossus shook his head. One part of him hoped that Gambit had indeed escaped. The other hoped he hadn't, for it would make things that much more difficult when he himself sought to change sides.

He went back to drawing.

* * *

"Don't tell me you were actually crazy enough to steal something from her," Rogue said the second the door shut.

"I had my reasons," Gambit said. Something metallic flickered briefly in his hands, before he tossed it neatly in her direction. "Here."

It was a knife, Rogue saw - a switchblade. She was less astonished by the fact that he'd perfectly aimed the knife with his hands behind his back, than she was by the fact that he even had a knife. "What -?"

"It's too big to fit into the lock on these things," he said, rattling the shackles on his wrists. "Cut yourself free and find me something."

She didn't need to be told twice, grabbing the switchblade and sawing through the tape on her feet, then her wrists. Her gloves were ruined, so she took them off and dropped them on the floor; some of the tape stuck to her sleeves, but she didn't dare pull it off for fear of ripping the material. Instead she climbed to her feet and started walking for the window, figuring that she could maybe jump out. They couldn't be_ that_ far off the ground, could they?

"Hey," Gambit called out behind her, sounding alarmed.

She turned around and put her hands on her hips. "What?"

"You're gonna help me get outta here too, right?" he asked, looking at her with a shamelessly pleading expression that was spoiled only by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Help you? You_ are_ fruit loops!" she said, incredulous. "I hate you! _You're_ the whole reason I'm _in _this mess."

"So what you gonna do? Leave me here?" He struggled to his knees. "Not something your professor would approve of, you know."

He was right about that, but Rogue was still tempted to do it anyway.

"Besides," Gambit went on, dropping his voice to a lower, more confidential tone, "you're not the kind of person that would do that. You're different. I knew that from the first second I saw you - remember? During th' fight, you found me, but you let me go. I know you'll help me again, Rogue. I know you want to."

He was right. She wanted to let him out of the shackles, to help him get out of Candra's lair, to do whatever he asked her to. The urge was so strong that she took a step toward him - toward the person she was just condemning as an object of hatred.

She wanted to help him. But she still hated him. And that set off every warning instinct she had.

"Stop it!" she said, pressing her hands over her ears.

"Stop what?" he asked, in that same low voice.

She pressed her hands tighter, willing herself to stay put and not follow the siren call. "Whatever it is you're doin'. I'm not fallin' for it!"

He shrugged. In a normal volume, he said, "Worth a try."

And just like that, the pervasive, insistent pressure to aid him vanished. She lifted her hands from her head, somewhat tentatively, and asked, "What was _that_?"

Gambit tilted his head, a half-grin on his face. "Charm, _cherie_. Charm."

More like a telepathic suggestion. Rogue _did_ live with two telepaths; she knew most of the tricks they could pull. In fact, it was probably all of that training against psychic attacks that had clued her in to Gambit's manipulations.

She glared at him, eyes narrowed and arms crossed over her chest. He stared back, completely unrepentant. They stayed like that for a long moment, not so much locked in a battle of wills as they were evaluating each other.

"Oh, _fine_, I'll help," she said, heaving a sigh, and went to find something in the room that he could use to break out of the shackles.

* * *

"He's gonna escape," Belladonna said, fretting like the child she was.

"No, he's not," Candra told her. She was, truth to tell, more than a little sick and tired of the entire affair. She had infinitely better things to do than trying to pry information out of a shut- mouthed thief - who, for all she knew, could have genuinely sold the ruby to an anonymous buyer. She wouldn't put it past him. "He can't get out of those cuffs, and there's no one there to help him."

"Rogue," Belle pointed out, sour.

Candra laughed. "Your jealousy is blinding, Belle. Rogue can't stand him."

Belle looked down and away so that Candra wouldn't see the disbelief stamped across her face. It didn't work, but Candra chose to ignore it.

"Time?" she asked no one in particular. She never wore a watch, or kept clocks; the passing of time was a phenomenon that only entertained for so long, and she had reached her saturation level ages ago.

"Three minutes left," Fifolet replied.

* * *

Rogue estimated they had about two minutes left before Candra returned, and her search for something Gambit could use to escape wasn't looking good. "Couldn't you just, you know, blow up those things?" she asked over her shoulder as she went through a big desk.

"Sure, but I'm kind of attached to my hands, so I won't."

Rogue bit back a sarcastic comment of her own, because the last thing she wanted was for him to realize how much he annoyed her. Besides, she'd found something, maybe. "Would a letter opener work?"

"It should," he said. "Bring it over here."

"No, I was gonna throw it into the fireplace," she said, rolling her eyes. So much for holding back the sarcasm.

"Whatever you do, do it fast, huh?" Gambit still hadn't managed to get on his feet, but his mouth was obviously in good shape.

So she took her sweet time walking back across the room.

He gave her an unamused look that did her soul good.

"If I let you out," she said, dangling the blade a good foot away from him, "you have to promise to get me back to the Xavier Institute alive and in one piece."

"What makes you think I'd keep a promise?" he asked, then grinned at her expression and said, "I promise. Thief's honor."

"No kind of honor at all," Rogue muttered, but bent down anyway and put the letter-opener in his hand. His fingers brushed hers, and she jerked back, expecting a cascade of memories.

But nothing happened.

_Oh my God_, she thought, swallowing hard and feeling just a little light-headed. _She really did it_.

Gambit gave her a suspicious look, as if he knew something was wrong too, but didn't say anything. He had the shackles off in seconds and stood, stretching. "I know the layout of the house. We can get out if we're careful."

He was headed for the door. Rogue looked at him, pushing the euphoria of powerlessness to the back burner, then at the smashed glass of the window. "How about we just go through the window?"

"The lawn's rigged with traps."

"Of course it is," she said. "Why not? Crazy people inside, boobytraps outside..."

He motioned for silence, then opened the door a crack and peered out.

"Got Gris-Gris down the hall," he murmured. "Looks like he's the only one. Candra's gettin' overconfident in her old age."

Old age? Candra was twenty-five if she was a day. Rogue dismissed it as yet another stupid thing he'd said and decided to ask him something that'd been bothering her. "Gris-Gris - what's that mean, anyway?"

"It's a voodoo word," he said, not really paying attention to her. "A spell - a powerful one. Gris' family's been practicin' since before Marie Laveau. He didn't need Candra's power, if you ask me."

And on that reassuring note, he opened the door wider and nodded in the hallway's direction. "Go distract him."

"What?"

"Distract him," Gambit repeated, then propelled her out into the hall.

"You're _so_ dead," she managed to hiss at him before Gris took notice of her.

"Well, well," he said, drawling the words and producing his mace as he walked toward her; that magenta glow enveloped it quickly. "Looks like you tryin' to leave the party early, girl. Can't have that."

Rogue brought her fists up, holding her ground. Powers or no powers, it didn't matter - it wasn't like she was used to fighting with super-strength or anything. She could clean Gris' clock just as easily now as she could before.

She hoped.

"Oh yeah? You gonna stop me?"

"I don't need to," he said, taking a swing at her torso. She flipped backwards easily, landing on her feet just like she always did in the Danger Room. "The spirits are on _my_ side, not yours!"

"I ain't afraid of your voodoo magic," she retorted.

"You should be," Gris said. "You should be real afraid."

Whenever they started saying things like that, Rogue had learned, it was best to clear out, because there was something bad coming. But before she could put thought into action and get out of range, he flung a handful of powder into her face, making her eyes burn.

"Is that the only trick you've got?" she asked, swiping at her watering eyes. "Blow fairy dust in people's faces and make 'em cry?"

"Not fairy dust, girl," he said, sounding way too smug about something. "This powder, it does sting the eyes, but it stings the soul even more."

She opened her mouth to fire back another comment, but found herself suddenly overwhelmed by a sensation that she hadn't truly felt in a very long time.

Fear.

Her heart starting pounding - not from the normal adrenaline of a fight, but from pure, unwatered terror. It slowed her reaction time to a standstill and she barely dodged a blow from Gris' mace.

"It's hard to see through all that fear, ain't it?" Gris swung the mace again, this time smacking it into the wall right above Rogue's head; she ducked and cowered, desperate to get away and yet still moving underwater. Bits of plaster showered down on her. "Makes you easy prey."

Rogue wanted to get on her feet and run like hell, but she was paralyzed like a deer in headlights, trapped where the wall met the floor. Gris knew it, too, and lowered his mace, trapping her further by simply walking closer.

"Don't know why Belle was sweatin' you," he said. "Not so tough."

He made a kicking motion at her; Rogue flinched and cowered further, trying to hide behind her hands, trying to vanish into the wall.

Gris laughed - a short, mean sound that sent fresh shivers of panic down Rogue's spine. "Yeah, I think we'll have fun with you, me and Belle. And with Gambit, once Candra's done."

_Gambit_. The name burned through the fear like a fire through cobwebs, clearing her head and her heart in one swift moment. She hated that boy - she hated them all, and she was more than mad at all of them for dragging her into this. Her anger was stronger than the terror he'd thrown in her face, and, anchored again, the powder had no chance. Rogue pushed off of the floor and came up swinging. "I don't think so!"

Gris was understandably caught by surprise and fell back. He recovered fast, though, and swung the mace up again. The energy hummed to a deeper color, like fuschia, and he snarled, "Not afraid any more? You _should_ be!"

"No," she said, not moving out of her stance, "you should!"

And, with perfect timing, Gambit brought what looked like a solid gold Cupid statuette down on the back of Gris' head.

"You are SO dead!" Rogue snapped, before Gris had even hit the floor.

Gambit looked at her like she was crazy. "For what?"

She didn't trust herself with words, so she just threw up her hands and made a noise of pure exasperation.

He shrugged and bent over Gris, taking something out of the unconscious flunky's pocket.

Footsteps and voices drifted down the hallway, around a corner but coming closer, and Rogue realized that all of their plans about getting out fast had just disappeared.


	3. 3

Note: Genevieve is a reference to the story related in XM #33.

Reminder: This is post-"Villains," pre-"Blind Alley." Which sucks, because I totally had to change my ending in order to wedge it into continuity (it was a good ending, too :pouts:), but that just proves that you should never write the ending first. And that you shouldn't worry about continuity so much.

* * *

"I just can't help thinking that we're missing something," Jean said. The conversation was only partially drowned out by the noise from a nearby group of marching-band members, identified as the BHS Drumline by the logo on their t-shirts and by the fact that they all had drumsticks and were putting them to good use on whatever was in range.

"I don't want to believe it either, but she left," Scott said, leaning against the locker next to hers. "Facts are facts."

"I know, but the more I think about it..." She trailed off, waiting for a knot of students to pass, and then went on, "I picked up on something weird last night. At the time I wrote it off as Rogue's power - she's impossible to read, there's just too many voices. Like a haunted house."

"So... now you think it was something else?" he ventured. She hesitated before nodding, making him stand up straighter. "You think it was some_one_ else. A shapeshifter?"

"Maybe. Or someone controlling her mind." Jean shut the locker door firmly, the better to block out the spectres of Mesmero and Mystique. "All I'm saying is, we shouldn't write her off so fast."

"I wasn't writing her off," he corrected. "I was accepting the situation with an eye to finding a way to convert her back."

The drum line launched into a particularly noisy segment on something made of metal, so Jean skipped the comment she was about to make and opted for a knowing smile instead.

Rogue was coming home. That was all there was to it, even if they had to storm Magneto's lair and take her back themselves.

But first they had to go to class.

* * *

"You know, I hate math," Rogue said, catching her breath as they waited for the coast to be clear, "but right now that Pre-Calc class is lookin' pretty good."

It turned out that Questa and Fifolet, who'd been coming to help Gris remove the prisoners, couldn't put up much of a fight - a couple of well-aimed cards from Gambit had ended things fairly quickly. Before they had gone down for the count, though, Rogue had picked up a few important bits of history from their bitter comments to each other.

All of them, it seemed - Gambit, Belle, and all of Belle's groupies - had grown up together, but Gambit had left for some reason, and now there was no love lost among them. She wondered how much it would hurt to have your old friends trying to kill you.

Of course, depending on what Candra had had Questa do to sever ties with the X-Men, she might get to find out firsthand.

Beside her, Gambit chuckled without turning his attention away from the hallway junction they were about to cross. "Can't believe you still go to school," he muttered. "Don't you ever get tired of people callin' you a freak?"

"Look at how I dress," she shot back. "I _like_ being different, thank you."

He did look, giving her an openly flirtatious head-to-toe appraisal that would've made her blush if she hadn't been so busy scowling. "I can see. Least this getup looks better than that purple thing."

"Hey, that 'purple thing' cost me a lot of money," she said, offended.

He shrugged. "It's fine - if you got no taste."

The only thing that stopped her from smacking him was the little detail that she needed his help. Instead she changed the subject to something that hopefully wouldn't want to make her kill him. "Where are you gonna go after all this?"

He motioned for silence, then darted around the corner of the hallway. She followed, and as they started running again, he said, "Back to the Acolytes, I guess."

If she'd been Jean or even Kitty, she would've jumped all over the opening and given him the full X-Men sales pitch. But she wasn't Jean or Kitty, she sucked at recruiting on her best days, and anyway, the absolute last thing she wanted in the entire world was Gambit hanging around twenty-four-seven.

So Rogue didn't say anything even vaguely persuasive. "Yeah, I'm lookin' forward to havin' my team around again. Better odds when you've got psychotic blondes tryin' to kick your head in."

"Candra, or Belladonna?"

She gave him a dirty look. "Take a wild guess, _'cherie.'_ "

Gambit had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Belle's okay. She's just a little..." He trailed off.

Rogue suggested, "Jealous?"

"I was gonna say 'homicidal,' but 'jealous' works too."

A faint, barely audible noise - like a whoosh of air - caught Rogue's attention, and she instinctively stopped in her tracks. Gambit also stopped cold, although whether it was because he heard it too or just because she'd stopped, she didn't know.

Belladonna landed silently in front of them, purple armor gleaming in the dim light.

"Speak of the devil, and she shall appear," Rogue said under his breath.

"Hello again, Belle," Gambit said, without any emotion in his voice.

Belle spit something out in French that Rogue didn't understand, then said, "You brought dishonor to the families with your leavin'."

"I had to," was all he said, and that with an indifferent air.

Belle shook her head. "You shouldn'tve left New Orleans. You shouldn'tve left _me!_"

"I had to-"

"_You didn't even say goodbye!_" she shrieked, accusing, and sounding so much like a normal teenage girl that it was a little scary.

But it was, Rogue reflected, the first thing Gambit had done that she could not only comprehend but actually approve of. She could just see Belle's reaction to the announcement that she was being dumped; heavy damage and injury was sure to be involved. Better by far to just sneak off with no word.

Gambit said something in French, and Belle answered in the same, shooting an evil glare in Rogue's direction.

"Belle, this is what I'm talkin' about," he said, making a vague gesture that encompassed most of the hallway. "Every time I _look_ at a girl, you try to kill her."

Belle fairly blazed with anger. "You shouldn't be lookin' at other girls in the first place! And don't tell me you were just lookin' at Genevieve."

The response was immediate and strong. "Don't bring Genevieve into this."

"Why, 'cause it was your fault?"

Gambit actually flinched at that, and lost some of the bravado he'd been projecting throughout the whole conversation. "I made mistakes. No point in rubbin' my face in them."

"Why not?" Belle challenged, a nasty expression on her face. "Did it hurt when she died? Did you cry while she was bleedin' to death in your arms?"

Now Rogue flinched. That was just... _mean_.

Gambit's face hardened into a mask of stone. "You still go for the throat, Belladonna."

"I _am_ my father's daughter," Belle said, brushing one hand through her hair in false modesty.

"Not something I'd brag about, if I was you," he said.

Belle flung her hands out, fingers curling into fists. "You got some nerve!"

"Always," he said, and jumped at her.

"And no sense!" Belle moved faster than any normal human had a right to, and not only blocked the lunge, but stopped him cold. She kicked him in the torso with one foot and he hit the floor at Rogue's feet.

She looked down at him, eyebrows raised. "Well, I'm impressed."

Gambit groaned and covered his eyes with one hand, not getting up. "That makes two of us."

Belle, her fat head visibly swelling with more self-satisfied pride, said, "I've been practicin'-"

"I wasn't talkin' to _you_," Rogue said immediately, cutting her off and shifting the focus of her scorn from Gambit to the other girl. "The only way _you_ could impress me is if you die some freakishly painful death."

"Then maybe you'll be impressin' yo'self, huh?" Belle shot back, shifting fluidly into a new stance.

"I sincerely doubt it." Rogue stepped out and took a stance of her own, not afraid at all. Well, maybe she was a little afraid; Belle was a trained killer and had no problem inflicting pain, and all Rogue had was experience dodging her teammates and assorted villains.

The bruises on her back and sides picked that moment to send sharp, twanging complaints.

Just in case she hadn't learned her lesson earlier.

Gambit, off the floor and evidently recovered from his unplanned collision, leaned over and whispered into Rogue's ear, "Careful. Assassins fight none too fair."

She jerked her shoulder, trying to shoo him away without taking her eyes off Belladonna. "I kinda figured that already."

For some reason - probably Gambit's proximity to her - Belle's expression went from calculating to furious.

Jealous, homicidal... both of them seemed to fit just fine.

She mentally shrugged off the thought and got ready. Rogue had seen how taking the offensive worked, so she opted for defense and let Belle make the first move.

Belle didn't disappoint. She was standing still one second, and the next, she was a blur of motion heading straight for Rogue.

Rogue could move fast too, when she wanted to, and right now she did. She dodged the first blow easily, but, distracted by the movement, she missed the second one, and Belle caught her in the side with one leg. Rogue went with it and had no trouble blocking the follow-up punch.

A flicker of surprise crossed Belle's face before vanishing into the twisted mask of hatred. Rogue said, "Yeah, it's not so easy now that I got my hands free, is it?"

Belle's face twisted further and something truly dangerous glittered in her violet eyes. "I ain't even tryin' yet."

"Yet" was the key word, because the words had barely left her mouth when she came back into the fight with a vengeance, stepping up the pace until it was all Rogue could do to stay on her feet. Belle's style was shifting, though; she lashed out with an open hand and Rogue narrowly avoided having her face raked. In another few minutes, she thought, this was gonna devolve from a fight between two skilled opponents into a fight between two teenage girls, complete with scratching and hair-pulling.

Belle took a wild swing, the first badly-aimed shot of the fight, and for a moment, Rogue had a chance to do something other than block. She took full advantage of the opening and jumped into a back handspring, and then another, trying to put some distance between them, then tucked into a roll and came up facing the way she'd come - just in time for Belle to plant a foot in her chest.

Rogue was knocked down, hitting the floor hard enough to momentarily knock the breath from her, and before she could get back up, Belle was grabbing her wrists and pinning her with a knee to her throat.

"Face it, girl - you X-Men are no match for us assassins!" she crowed.

Rogue had a really good retort for that one, but since Belle was crushing her trachea, she decided not to waste the effort or the oxygen. Instead, she twisted around, got her feet up flat against Belle's stomach - and pushed.

She wasn't the strongest mutant in the world, not by far, and she didn't have the best leverage from her position, but Belle went flying anyway.

Right into the wall.

It happened in slow motion - Belle hitting the wall, first with her body, and then with the back of her head, and then dropping gracelessly to the floor as though all her strings had been cut. She left a large, oval-shaped dent in the plaster, and a smaller bunch of cracks where her head had hit. And she wasn't moving.

Rogue scrambled to her feet, coughing, not at all pleased with her triumph. If anything, she felt a little sick - although that might have been from the almost-choking. She rasped out, "Oh, God, I didn't mean to..."

Gambit had already crouched beside Belladonna and was fingering her neck. "She's alive."

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" she started, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

"Don't be. She would've killed you." He rose and gave the girl at his feet one long look, filled with more emotions than Rogue could quite decipher, and then he started walking again, in the direction they'd been going.

Rogue stared for a moment - he was just gonna walk away? - and then hustled to follow suit.

"Now I _know_ Candra's getting overconfident," he said, pushing through a set of doors as if his ex-girlfriend hadn't just tried to kill them, and as if Rogue hadn't just left said ex unconscious in the middle of the hallway. "Usually she'd have most of the families with her. This is just the skeleton crew."

The families again, with just as much explanation as before. Rogue was sick and tired of hearing all this crap that didn't make any sense. She still didn't know what the ruby was, or why Gambit had stolen it, or why he'd had to leave New Orleans - although she had a good guess - or why 'the families' were so important. And she hurt all over, and her clothes were trashed, and she wanted some answers.

So she got in front of Gambit, grabbed his uniform's collar, and said, "No further 'til you tell me what the _heck_ is goin' on!"

* * *

"Where are they?" Candra demanded.

Singer took a moment to respond. "East wing..."

"And Belladonna?"

"Out."

And Questa and Fifolet were already down, as was Gris-Gris. Candra seethed. This was all so very _trying_ to her patience. She didn't know which cliche was more appropriate - the one about doing things yourself, or the one about good help being hard to find. Of course, good help had never been easy to find, and she ought to know. She pointed at Singer, saying, "Stay here and try to wake them up. I'm going to end this farce myself."

Singer bowed her head and said nothing.

* * *

"I wanna know what all this babble about 'the families' is," Rogue said, crossing her arms over her chest and blocking Gambit's path. "And I wanna know about the ruby, and I wanna know why you stole it."

He looked completely exasperated with her, but said, "Our families work for Candra. Have for nearly two hundred years."

She wasn't sure she'd heard that right. "You mean, you've worked for Candra's _family_."

"No, for Candra."

"You're tryin' to tell me she's _two hundred years old_?!"

"More like two thousand. But that's not important." He paused, evidently gathering his thoughts - _as if he has any in that fool head_, Rogue thought, irritated. "The story goes that about a hundred years ago, she put all of her power - the stuff that makes her immortal - into a gem."

"The ruby," Rogue said, beginning to understand a little of it now. "That's why she called it her heart."

"And that's why she's ready to kill me to get it back." It was said so matter-of-factly that Rogue had to blink. As weird as this whole situation was to her, it made perfect sense to him, and that was just a smidge on the disturbing side. What kind of a life did you have to have in order to accept that a two-thousand-year-old immortal mutant would kill you to retrieve a magical ruby?

Before she could get mad at herself for starting to feel sympathy for him, Gambit reached back and grabbed her around one wrist, pulling her forward with a simple, "Come on."

Once again it was all she could do to not jerk away at the contact even as she delighted in it. Admittedly, she hadn't had a lot of prolonged close encounters with other people's skin in the last few years, but she thought Gambit's was warmer than usual. A boy made of fire, for sure. "Where are we goin' now?" she snapped.

"Not sure. This part of the house I don't know so well." He kept a firm grip on her wrist. "Should be a stairway comin' up soon..."

She gave up on trying to figure out how he knew the house at all and resigned herself to just going with it. They rounded a corner and found themselves face-to-face with the stairway - along with a short, round, grandmotherly woman with her arms folded across her chest an unsurprised look on her face.

"Tante Mattie," Gambit said, eyes widening. He was surprised, obviously, even if the woman wasn't. "What are you doin' here?"

"Goin' where Candra tells me. And now judgin' from those explosions, about to patch up all the assassins you and this girl are hurtin'." The woman nodded in Rogue's direction.

"Rogue," Gambit told her, before Rogue could. " 'Sides, it's not our fault."

"It ain't, now?" Tante Mattie said, eyebrows rising and her attitude shifting. Rogue recognized her type; the grandma who seemed all warmth and love, only to reveal an iron core when her children crossed the line. "You had no business stealin' that ruby."

"Sorry, Tante."

"Your family is outraged," she went on, but there was a glint in her eyes that made it clear she wasn't at all serious. "_I'm_ outraged."

"Sorry, Tante," he said again. This time he was grinning.

"Uh-huh," Tante Mattie said, also amused and not bothering to hide it now. "The garage is down there." She pointed one finger without lifting her hand. "Too bad my old eyes won't see which way you're heading."

Gambit's grin widened. "Thank you, Tante," he said, just like a little boy, and dropped a kiss on her cheek before heading down the stairs.

As Rogue moved to follow, Tante Mattie put a hand out and grabbed her by the arm; her grip was much stronger than Rogue would've expected. "Watch out for him. He's not as smart as he thinks."

"Yeah, okay," Rogue said, pulling away and clambering down the stairs. She had no intention of watching out for Gambit, not after this little adventure was over. In fact, she had every intention of leaving him with a few more bruises than he would've had otherwise.

The old lady's voice drifted down after her. "That boy gets in more trouble..."

_That boy gets me__ in more trouble_, Rogue thought crossly, jogging down another mammoth hallway to where Gambit was waiting in the shadows of an alcove.

He gave her a look reading, 'don't take so long,' which she responded to with a look saying, 'bite me.'

He narrowed his eyes, then turned away from her and went down a short flight of stairs that ended in a heavy wooden door. The scent of oil and gasoline was so strong that even she could smell it, and she figured that if the garage wasn't behind the door, it was missing a good opportunity.

Gambit tapped the doorknob, leaving an orange glow of fire behind, and a few seconds later it exploded outward with a metallic pop. He pushed the door experimentally and it swung away from them without so much as a creak of hinges.

The garage was cavernous, easily the same size as the room with the fireplace, and lit by well-placed ceiling lights. Several sleek black sports cars were parked throughout, and part of one wall was taken up by a row of black and red motorcycles.

And standing in the middle of it all, mad as a wet cat, was Candra.

"Hello, kiddies," Candra said, and grabbed them both with her telekinesis before either of them could do anything. "Trying to leave? I'm hurt."

From three feet in the air, Gambit shrugged and said, "The party was fun, Candra, but she's gotta get back to school."

"Oh, really. That's too bad."

The door swung shut and an expensive-looking mechanic's tool chest rolled in front of it, effectively sealing them all in. Rogue was not surprised when Candra released the TK grip on her - what was she gonna do, powerless?

And released, she was apparently forgotten, as Candra turned all of her attention to Gambit.

"You got away from me once," Candra said, tightening her fist and making him wince, "by running to Magneto like a scared rabbit. But not this time. That pompous windbag isn't here to protect you. He doesn't even know you're gone."

Gambit started to say, "We can talk about this-"

"The time for talking is OVER!" Candra shouted, and the telekinetic windstorm came roaring back, filling the garage with an unseen hurricane. "I want my HEART, thief, and I want it NOW!"

"I told you, I don't have it!"

"But you know where it _is_, and you're going to bring it to me. Or I might decide to kill your family after all!"

"You do, I'll destroy it. You know that."

"Of course I know it, you idiot!" Candra flung him into one of the pillars. "And I know that's why you stole it in the first place. Grandiose plans to blackmail me into better behavior. Surprise, _surprise_, Gambit - I'm going to get my way whether you want to help or not."

Rogue was jerked forward, into the middle of the garage. Candra turned her face away from Gambit, although he was still firmly caught, and geared up for something that Rogue knew was going to be bad.

"I took away your powers," Candra said to her, voice dropping dangerously soft. "I can bring them back... and I can take them away again. Forever."

The mere possibility nearly took her breath away. "Forever?"

A victorious smile slid across Candra's face. "_Forever_, Rogue. No more gloves, no more long sleeves, no more flinching away every time someone gets too close... You could touch anyone you wanted, without fear, for the rest of your life."

"What's the catch?" she asked, eyeing Candra suspiciously. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. And she had a pretty good idea what it was, but there was no harm in playing dumb.

"You'd be working for me." Candra let go of her and she fell to the floor, smacking her knees on the cold concrete. It stung, but not enough to complain about. "Contrary to what you've seen here today, I'm not into the business of roughing people up just because. My empire - both criminal and legitimate - is vast. I make more money per year than the entire country of Liechtenstein."

"A crook is still a crook," she said, but she didn't put as much venom into it as she should've.

"True. But I'm a fabulously wealthy crook, and I'm immortal." Candra gestured at Gambit, who was still caught. "Even if bayou brats like this one get big ideas otherwise."

"Don't ever change, Candra," Gambit said, giving her a patently false smile.

"Mm. I won't." She flicked her wrist and he went slamming into the wall on the far side of the garage. "Now, Rogue, where was I? Oh yes. The catch. You'd work for me for the rest of your life - which I can promise you will be much longer than normal - and I'd reward you with splendor and riches and so on."

Rogue considered her situation carefully. On one hand, she had the X-Men, who valued her as a teammate and a friend. Problem was, she was stuck in a house God-knows-where with a powerful mutant who was obviously crazy, and had no guarantee of getting back to the X-Men, who might not want her back anyway, since Candra had made them think she'd defected. On the other hand, she was being given an offer she couldn't refuse: no absorption power to worry about, ever again, with a host of other incentives thrown in. The problem with that was she'd be selling her soul.

She stalled by demanding, "Why would you want me anyway?"

Candra laughed. "Why not? You've been trained by both Xavier and Mystique. You've got a bad attitude, which I find amusing. And you were more than a match for our dear Belladonna."

"So I just say 'yes' and that's it?"

"Almost." Candra raised one hand and brought Gambit back to close range. "To prove your loyalty, you'll have to get the location of the ruby from your little friend here."

"He ain't my friend," Rogue snapped.

Candra waited, poised, as though she was about to have her picture taken by a fashion magazine.

Rogue looked at Gambit; he wasn't pleading with her, or trying to get away, or much of anything of all except breathing. He met her gaze with a stone-eyed stare that told her exactly nothing.

God, she hated him.

"I'll do it," she said, holding his stare and hoping he could read everything she was trying to tell him.

Candra clapped her hands. "That's my girl! All right, then, let's get this over with."

Rogue climbed to her feet and took a step toward her, and then another. Candra waited for her, radiating victory. Gambit continued to do his impression of a statue.

"Okay," Rogue said, coming to a stop in front of her and taking a deep breath. "You promise?"

"I promise." Candra spread her fingers. "You have my word."

The pink glow surrounded her and Rogue got ready. The most difficult, gray-moraled dilemma of her life, and she'd made her decision... and she was gonna have to live with it forever.

Candra shut her eyes briefly, concentrating.

Rogue closed the distance between them in a single step and punched her square in the face.

Candra let out a thoroughly undignified screech of pain and abandoned all of her telekinesis in favor of grabbing at her nose.

"Your word? That and a dollar'll get me a long-distance phone call," Rogue told her, and just because she didn't want to listen to Candra whine, she took her down with a roundhouse kick that would've done Mystique proud.

Candra hit the concrete floor of the garage and stayed there.

Rogue exhaled, shaking her hand out. Punching always hurt a _lot_ more than they made it seem in the movies. "I thought I'd never get to do that."

Gambit stood, brushing himself off and grinning. "You do good work, Rogue."

It was only the second time he'd called her by name - the first, really, since earlier he'd just been trying to charm her - and she realized that she had yet to call him Gambit to his face. _So?_ she asked herself, dismissing it all. "Now what?"

"Now we'd better get out of here for real." He looked around the garage and then jogged over to the row of motorcycles. The one on the very end of the row was fire-engine red with wicked lines; he picked that one and jumped on. "It's not a Harley, but it'll do. Come on."

She climbed on behind him, but couldn't help saying, "I can ride a motorcycle, you know."

He started the engine and pulled a card out. "Trust me - not the way I can."

She made a hmph noise of disdain but didn't protest it further. He flung the card and the garage door blew out; before the explosion had even cleared, they were driving full-out toward the gaping hole. Rogue put her head down as they went through the smoke, and then the world was full of sunshine and fresh air and endless green lawn.

There was a tremendous, ground-shaking boom behind them a heartbeat later, and she looked  
back at the garage to see it being engulfed in flames.

"Oh yeah, forgot to warn Candra about that little goodbye present," Gambit said, glancing over his shoulder with grim satisfaction written all over his face. He sent the speedometer edging over sixty and kept it there as they raced for what looked like the only gate on the property.

Of course, it was closing.

"We're not gonna make it," she shouted - the noise from the bike was loud enough that she doubted he heard, but he pushed the bike a little faster anyway.

The needle flickered around seventy-five, and then he shouted back, "Keep close!"

They made it through the gate with mere inches to spare, but Rogue felt something snag her shirt and tear it further.

"You owe me a new shirt!" she told him, angry with all the abuse she was putting up with, and he just laughed.

The gate opened onto a private drive which then connected with a highway lined with trees, and they roared down the road at full speed. Gambit didn't slow down even when they hit the outskirts of a town. Rogue braced herself as they went tearing down the main street of what a blurred road sign identified as Salem Center, and then they were back on the open road again.

No one pursued them. No cars, no bikes, no helicopters, nothing.

She was starting to think they'd made it.

* * *

No one at the Xavier Institute was paying attention to the news, or they would've seen a flash about a mysterious explosion in Westchester County, New York. The fire department, it seemed, had arrived to discover the mansion empty of occupants, although they did report some mysterious damage not caused by the fire, and none of the authorities were quite certain as to who actually owned the house anyway.

The X-Men missed this interesting bit of media coverage because the ones that weren't slogging through high school had returned to the construction effort. Deadlines were deadlines.

In Magneto's base, however, Colossus was watching the news, and he wondered briefly if _that _was where Gambit and Rogue had been all morning. Things did tend to explode around Gambit.

"Colossus," Magneto asked from the doorway behind him, making the Russian mutant startle, "where is the Rogue girl?"

"I do not know," he answered, trying to be honest. "Pyro mentioned earlier that she might have gone somewhere with Gambit."

Magneto nodded, clearly not pleased with the response but not angry enough to do anything about it... for the moment. "Find them."

Colossus got to his feet with aclarity, saying, "Yes, sir."

"I won't have betrayal in my ranks," Magneto added, fixing a iron glare on Colossus - as though he knew, Colossus thought, going a little cold despite himself - and stalked off down the hallway once again.

* * *

Gambit was either the worst driver she'd ever seen or the best, and the reason she wasn't sure was because they hadn't crashed and burned yet, but they should've. Several times. The white streak in her hair was getting whiter by the second.

Eventually, he pulled over to the side of the road and killed the engine, climbing off. She did the same, facing him with equal parts curiosity and confusion.

"Bayville's a few miles that way," he said, pointing.

She put two and two together and scowled. "The deal was you got me to-"

"The Xavier Institute's front door," he finished, cutting her off. "I know. But I'm not. It's gonna be bad enough explaining this to Magneto without havin' to add I dropped in to Xavier's for milk and cookies."

"You lying cheat! I almost got killed and you're goin' back on our deal?" she demanded, hands on hips and more than ready to argue him down.

Instead of answering, he tilted his head and gave her a calculating look. "When did Candra zap you?"

She checked her watch automatically. "About an hour and a half ago. Why?"

"Plenty of time, then," he said, and before she quite realized what was going on, he leaned down and kissed her.

Rogue was just starting to get over the shock of someone actually _kissing_ her - on the lips and everything, and it was helluva kiss, too - when Gambit broke it off, leaving her standing there with a thoroughly dazed look on her face and absolutely nothing to say.

He flashed a wide, easy smile and sketched a mock salute. "Until we meet again, _cherie_."

"Yeah," she managed, watching without really seeing him climb on the motorcycle and drive away.

But when he reached the first bend in the road and vanished from view, she snapped out of it - the warm, gentle daze eliminated by a cold slap from reality.

"Hey! That son of a- How'm I supposed to get home _now?_"

* * *

Belladonna watched Singer's astral projection of the kiss in silence. The others in the room had retreated well out of range, because they all knew what was coming next, and the red light filling the room only served to make the murderous expression on Belladonna's face more fearsome.

"I'll KILL her!" she shouted, bringing one fist down on the closest surface, which turned out to be a rather expensive antique table. The repair bills would be astronomical.

"It takes two to tango, my dear Belladonna," Candra reminded her, examining her fingernails. The indispensable Mattie had already taken care of the injuries to her face, but the wounds to her pride would still be raw several years from now. "And it wasn't the girl leading _that_ dance."

With the reminder, Belle's fury only grew. She fired a blast of yellow energy at the astral picture, disrupting it. "I'll kill BOTH of them!"

Candra decided that it was high time for a manicure. Three days was far too long to go without one. She also decided that she was tired of the thief, and the X-girl was just no fun at all. "By all means, go right ahead."

* * *

It turned out that only a handful of motorists would pick up a girl in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the day, especially if that girl looked like she'd been in a cage match with an axe murderer and then stood too close to a fireworks display.

Of those drivers that did stop, only of two of them failed to set off alarm bells in Rogue's mind. She didn't feel like stealing - she'd had enough of that - and she couldn't play vehicular leapfrog without Kitty.

She wound up walking most of the way - which, she was slightly miffed to discover, was a lot more than "a few miles." Another lie. Big surprise.

It was sunset when she reached the gates of the Xavier Institute, and she'd gotten that tingly feeling again a few dozen miles earlier, which she figured meant she had her powers back. She got through security with no problem - evidently they hadn't locked her out of the system yet, despite her apparent defection - and trudged across the lawn to the gazebo entrance.

Rogue rode the elevator down, leaning heavily against the wall as she did, and reentered the X-Men's temporary home right in the middle of dinner.

She walked past the table where they were eating with no more than a curt, "I'm back."

Several people choked on food. More than one sprayed their drinks all over the dishes in front of them. And all of them immediately abandoned the meal to chase after her.

She ignored the onslaught of questions, exclamations, and accusations until she got to the door of her room. At that point, she turned to face them and said, very loudly, "Okay, I'm only gonna say this once, so shut up and listen!"

Everyone, from the new kids to the teachers, fell silent.

She took a deep breath and launched into the explanation, trying to get it all out as quick as possible. "It wasn't me, it was a shapeshifter. I got taken hostage by some psycho, tied up, beaten up, escaped, and walked back here. I don't know why it happened, I don't wanna talk about it, I don't wanna hear about it, and if any of y'all ever even mention it again - even if you think I ain't around - I'm gonna make you regret it." She tugged at the shred of duct tape hanging from her sleeve and grimaced. "And the next person to say 'gambit' is gonna be eatin' through a straw!"

And on that, she went into her room and slammed the door shut behind her, locking it as an afterthought. Even through the door, she heard her teammates break out in discussion.

_We're glad to have you home_, Rogue, Professor Xavier's voice said in her mind. He sounded like he meant it.

_I'm glad to be home,_ she said back. And boy, did she ever mean it.

He ended communication with a fatherly, _We'll discuss this more in the morning. Good night._

She thought about changing out of her clothes and decided she was too tired, so she flopped down on her bed without even kicking off her shoes. She hadn't eaten in forever, but she was also too tired to be hungry. Lord, what a day - or two days, however long it had been - and there was the promise of a long, thorough discussion tomorrow. Plus she had to go back to school. Great. Being called a freak was so much more appealing than fighting for her life.

Rogue sighed and shifted position on the bed, trying to get comfortable. Something jabbed into her hip and she sat up with an annoyed exclamation. The annoyance faded when she pulled the offending object out of her pocket: a playing card with a distinctive purple and yellow backing.

She turned the card over to see the face of it. Two of hearts.

Until we meet again.

She fell back onto her pillow, a smile growing. Maybe it hadn't been a total disaster after all.

END


End file.
